“What did you do, Zeke?” Elliot’s voice is quiet and strained. Poor Dane’s body has gone absolutely rigid.
Shaking his head, he stares down at the cellar floor between them for so long, I don’t think he’s going to answer. And I don’t want to move while it’s silent, so we’re forced to remain still and wait. Finally, his head pops up with an ugly chuckle. “He was panting really hard. I pulled one of the earbuds and altered my voice enough that he wouldn’t know it was me. Told him he needed to fucking leave Hawthorne Hall before things got worse for him. I jammed the earbud back in, and he began to scream, so I covered his mouth to get him to shut up.”
My stomach turns, hating that Elliot is hearing a firsthand account of what someone she loved so fuckin’ much went through right before he died.
Her head bows for a moment, and when she looks up, there’s a fresh wash of tears streaming from her eyes. “And then what, Zeke?” She prods him for more information even though I can tell it’s fucking killing her to do this. Goddamn, our girl is gutsy.
He exhales hard, then yanks on his hair with his free hand. From the way his arm muscles are flexing, he must be tugging damn hard. “I thought he passed out. But then he didn’t wake up again.” His movements are erratic, like he doesn’t know what to do with his limbs. And that fucking gun… he continues to wave it around.
Elliot presses her lips together; she’s trying so hard to give us the time we need to get close enough to gain control of the gun. “He had a heart condition. Did you know that?”
“Not at the time.” He dips his hand into his pocket, then tosses something metal at Elliot’s chest, even though she can’t catch it with her hands bound. “I took that and his phone with me. Let his fucking asshole sponsors believe they’d gone too far.” He gives a wretched laugh. “They took him to some swampland not too far from here. I guess no one ever found him. Good call on their part.”
Elliot glances down at what I’m guessing is a medical alert bracelet in her lap, the same kind Cannon wears. A funny look crosses her features. “Is this what you were after in my closet? I forgot until now that you—”
He interrupts her, like he’s getting off on telling his own story. He cackles. “You forgot you were in my old room. There’s access to the attic through the panel in the ceiling. I hid the bracelet up there when the cops finally came.”
It disturbs me how he slips so easily from anger to regret to some sort of sick mania. This guy is a firecracker with the wick already lit. Ready to explode. I turn my head, and quickly glance at Cannon, my lips pressed together. Speaking of explosions, he looks ready to go off, too. I swing my head in the other direction. Archer’s eyes are trained on Elliot, watching her every move.
And fuck. When I focus on her again, it’s crystal clear she’s struggling to continue with this, her answering tone now dull and lifeless. “Yeah. I didn’t consider it for a second. I never would have thought you were capable of something like this. I guess it’s always the quiet guy you have to look out for.”
Zeke reaches up, tugging on the back of his neck, semi-pointing the gun at Elliot again. “You’re pretty smart, though, I’ll give you that.”
Cannon and Archer are on either side of me, and we’re so fucking close. I motion to each of them to get ready. We’re going to take this fucker down. He’ll be lucky to make it to prison.
“The problem is now I don’t know what the fuck to do with you. This did not go as planned.” He rubs his hand over his face. “I was supposed to turn you over to Nick, and he was going to do… whatever the fuck he wanted. I was supposed to be free of him. But now—” His jaw locks up, and he covers his face with his hand as he moans, “What the fuck do I do?” The gun shakes horrifically in his hand, and I’m fuckin’ terrified the motherfucker is accidentally going to fire it.
My eyes connect with Elliot’s. They are wide and scared, but within them I sense all the trust in the world. We can’t fucking wait any longer. I nod at Cannon and Archer, my expression grim before I hold up my hand signaling three, two, one.
And with that, the three of us lunge at him as I grind out, “You can fucking go to hell.”
THIRTY-FIVE
ARCHER
Zeke never sees us coming.Kingston grabs him around the waist, dragging him to his knees. I restrain one arm and clutch a fistful of Zeke’s hair in my hand, yanking his head back. At the same time, Cannon has the wrist with the gun, but the fucker doesn’t want to give it up.
“Get… the fuck… off me!” Zeke gasps as we wrestle his sorry ass to his stomach. It doesn’t take much to control him because it’s three on one. I spare a glance at Nick’s unmoving body, gritting my teeth. The fucker got what was coming to him. I guess Zeke did us a small favor by taking Nick out before we got here. Elliot and Dane can fill us in later on how that all went down.
Cannon heaves out an angry grunt and wrenches the arm with the gun back at a crazy angle, making Zeke shriek out in pain.
“Just fuckin’ stay still,” Kingston barks in annoyance. He digs his knee into Zeke’s lower back to keep him down.
“The hell I will.” Zeke bucks wildly, and I see the crazy gleam in his eye right before his words are punctuated by the crack of another gunshot.
I freeze in place, immediately doing a quick self-inventory. Everything happens so quickly. Finding myself whole and pain-free, my gaze shifts first to Elliot. She’s wide-eyed, but okay. Kingston and Cannon are both doing the same thing I am, also unharmed.
“Fuck, what’s going on?” Dane’s pained whisper is gut-wrenching and scared. I don’t blame the guy one fucking bit.
It’s then that Zeke lets out a low wail. “You shot me,” he moans, and amazingly he’s still trying to get out from under our hold.
Cannon’s brow pitches upward, and he shakes his head in bewilderment as he finally wrenches the weapon out of Zeke’s hand.
“You shot yourself, you asshole.” Elliot motions with her chin to his calf. “There in the lower leg.”
Kingston leans over to watch as I pull up the leg of Zeke’s joggers.
He gasps and groans, and his face has turned beet red. “Motherfucker. Goddamn fucking fuck!”
